One Man Has
by iwillholdonhope
Summary: AU. With their father dead, Arthur has been forced off of his family land by his only brother, Alistair. Trying to get back on his feet Arthur wants to get back at his brother, and it won't be just a flick on the wrist either.


A/N: Hi! So I have run into a slight writers block... and this is me trying to work through it. There will be more parts to this, as it is based off of a song. Bonus points for guessing what song it is!

It was actually meant to be a little flashback part for something I was thinking of doing on the livejournal meme, but never got around to...

I will hopefully be getting up another chapter of 2p soon... possibly... anywho, enjoy!

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Arthur stood on the rickety porch of his old house, looking out on what was once his family land, the sun slowly setting. It had been going down earlier and earlier every day, but the brown ground in front of him seemed to glow. Dust would shoot up every time the wind flew across the empty space, and would often hit him in the face with small grains of sand. It didn't deter him though, he just continued to stand and stare.

His once crisp white shirt had a wide red stripe right over his chest, the only thing that stopped the colour from splashing the sides was the green coat (that matched his neatly pressed slacks) which sat on the slowly swinging rusted deck chair.

Squinting, Arthur looked into the distance. Looking hard enough he could see the once bustling little town, the scorching sun and dry land not being nice to it in the slightest. The fields that once held green growing crops now had dry brittle soil.

Six years ago this would have pained Arthur, he had dedicated himself to the land that stood at the foot of the hill. His whole heart had been put into his fathers bustling farm. People always said he had a green thumb. The plants had always seemed to like him, especially when he sang t-

Arthur turned around when he heard footsteps from behind, smiling as he caught sight of the weathered old face of the sheriff standing in the doorway to the house.

There was a quick flash of recognition in the mans eyes as he finally got a good look at Arthur. It had, after all, been six years since they saw each other last. A frown was returned, but it didn't unsettle Arthur in the slightest, and the arching of the sheriff's eyebrow was just the introduction to the sheriff's question. "Did you do this?"

Arthur looked him square in the eyes and opened his mouth...

-oOo-

The force of the push from his brother sent him stumbling back, his heel catching on the rotten wood of the un-kept porch. Landing heavily on the rail, it creaked as it protested the sudden weight, swaying as it tried to stay upright on its decayed supports.

After their father had passed away over the summer, Arthur's brother Alistair had been looking after him. It was more like, Arthur provided for his brother while Alistair drank himself into a stupor. Arthur was the one who went out into the fields to get the food, he was the one that cooked (not well, mind you) and he was the one to fix all the torn clothing. There was not one thing that his brother did, except pick on and punch at Arthur.

Since he was doing everything around the place, it came as a surprise when Alistair grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and threw him out the front door.

Leaning against the railing, Arthur managed to gain his footing and stood upright.

"What the hell Alistair?"

His brother just grinned and reached into his flimsy shirt, pulling out a small pistol that must have been sitting in the waistline of his pants.

"Leave, bro'her. Yer' no longer welcome here." His speech was slurred and Arthur could tell that his brother had ben drinking more than normal.

"What?"

"LEAVE!" The harsh words were practically yelled into his face, which caused Arthur to flinch. "Thi' land is mine! Take yer' stupid horse and ge' out!"

As Alistair waved his hands around the trigger was pulled and the sound of the gun going off pierced the air. The bullet had landed just inches away from Arthur's right hand, and both men stood still.

Arthur was the first to react. He pushed himself from the wooden railing and ran down the stairs, jumping the last three in his haste. Making his way to the stable he quickly saddled his horse, Belthos, and checking briefly to make sure that everything was correct before setting off.

As he distanced himself from the house and his brother, Arthur looked back. Alistair was still standing where Arthur left him, the gun that was in his hand was now pointing out to where Arthur sat.

Arthur couldn't get away fast enough. Kicking the sides of the beast beneath him, he forced Belthos to go faster and faster till Arthur was certain he wouldn't get shot. Slowing down he let the horse walk, the large stalks of corn brushing and pulling at his pants as he rode through it.

He didn't know how long it had been, lost in thought of what just happened, but the corn fields had turned into wheat, and then into the old dirt path which would lead to the small town a couple miles away. Pushing Belthos into a trot, Arthur started down the path.

Sixteen, that's how old he was, old enough to marry for sure, but he cared not for that. What he always wanted to do was take care of his fathers farm, and after his passing, he had the perfect opportunity to do so. But where was he now? Homeless with nothing but his horse and the clothes on his back.

Buildings started to dot the sides of the road as began to enter the town. He had no idea what he was going to do but continued on through the town. A swinging sign caught his attention and he couldn't help but stop and stare at it. A big yellow star swayed in the slight breeze, the carved letters crudely hacked into the wood marked 'sheriff'.

Did he want to report his brother?

No.

"Can I help you?"

Arthur nearly fell off his horse, but whipped his head around to the source of the noise. It was the one person in town he would rather not see, but seeing as he was standing in front of the building it wasn't odd to see the sheriff looking at him.

"Uh, no sir. I was just heading out actually." Arthur replied quickly, not wanting to spend too much time talking to the man.

"You're that Kirkland boy, aren't you? Sorry about your father, lad, he was a good man."

"Yeah... he was..." Arthur said nothing else, but kicked his horse lightly once more, leaving the town through the opposite end of the street.


End file.
